The GW Gang Does FoodTV
by Chloe Peacecraft
Summary: This goes to show that I am a complete and utter freak. Even if you are not a cooking-channel junkie like me, it should still make at least some sense...


The GW Gang Does Food TV (Eeeeep!) 

  
Upon being informed that YTV no longer intends to air re-runs of Gundam Wing, our heroes are approached by another up-and-coming channel, looking to spice things up a bit by replacing the veterans with some new faces. Boy, are they in for more than they bargained for...  
  
********  
  
Martha Stewart Living becomes... Lady Une Living!  
Lady Une shows off her just-baked, gorgeously decorated (by someone else) Christmas cookies, and concludes the episode with Martha's trademark sentence, uttered in her distinctively calm-yet-intimidating tone,  
"It's a good thing..."  
Director (shuddering):   
"Um... Anne, darling, do you think you could maybe sound a bit more... uh... how shall I put it? Non-threatening?"  
"Is there a problem with my performance, SIR?"  
"Eeek! Nope... 'S all good, dear... carry on."  
  
********  
  
Scene switches to the set of "The Surreal Gourmet". Trowa Barton walks out of a toaster-shaped trailer, all the while skillfully juggling oranges and apples. He continues to juggle in silence, while the camera crew films on, quite puzzled.  
  
Director:  
"Alright, Barton, you're looking pretty cool and all, but you gotta say something at some point or other... How about introducing yourself to the audience?"  
Still nothing. The director shrugs, thinking maybe this new chef's just the kind of guy who likes to get down to business and get cooking right away. Instead, Trowa walks away. Only, he starts taking bites out of an apple as he juggles.  
  
Just then Catherine storms out of the trailer, and tosses her apron to the ground as she waves her fist menacingly at the director:  
"Now look what you did, you big, bad meanie! You scared my little brother away! Do you have any idea how long it took me to find him in the first place? Trowa! Trowa, come back, he doesn't really mean it..."  
  
*********  
  
Back inside the studios, the crowd is going crazy, and the new host of "Emeril Live" is soaking it up like there is no tomorrow...  
  
"How many of these do I wanna add?!!" the young braided chef asks, as he raises a bowl full of habanero peppers.  
"Kick it up a notch!!!" the audience cheers as he dumps the whole thing into his pot of chili, and follows it up with a   
"Bam!!!"  
  
The audience does a wave, just as mothers and daughters alike start screaming Duo's name like a group of schoolgirls at a Backstreet Boys concert. Duo bows to the ladies, then takes a peek at the pot simmering away on the stove top.  
"Ooooh, look at it, it's getting happy," he comments with a huge grin, then proceeds to taste a sample of his concoction.  
"Happy, happy, hhhhhhaaaaaaaa... AIEEEEEEEE!!!! Hot!"  
  
*********  
  
In the studio right beside Duo's, Wufei is intent in a complex meditation exercise, no doubt to shut out the noise coming from his colleague's show. The setting is the one used for Ming Tsai's "East Meets West". The theme instrumental stops playing, and yet there is no sign of Wufei getting up to actually get the episode started.  
  
Director:  
"Uh... Chang? Ready when you are..."  
The director's aide starts feeding Wufei his lines through the hidden earpiece he's wearing:  
"Hi, I'm Wufei Chang..."  
Wufei, still in the lotus position on the floor, repeats along, none too enthusiastically  
"Hi, I'm Wufei Chang... it's actually Chang Wufei, you dimwits! Get it right next time..."  
  
The aide sweatdrops, but keeps going:  
"Today we're going to be cooking Szechwan-style beef-and-broccoli stir-fry, using a surprisingly Western ingredient... broccoli! Heh, what do you know?"  
Wufei, somewhat calmed down, repeats along.  
"Today we're going to be coo... Wait a second... WHAT VILE THING IS THAT TO SAY ON NATIONAL TV?!!!" he storms, drawing one of Ming's precious (not to mention ultra-sharp) ceramic knives and pointing it at the director, as though it were a katana.  
  
The poor guy gulps, entirely clueless as to what may have sent the young chef through the roof,  
"Ok, Wu... it's alright... put the knife down, please, and let's talk about this. Is it the broccoli? Look, if you don't like broccoli, that's cool, you can cook anything you want, you're the boss... Want foie gras? I'll get you foie gras. Want white truffles? I can get you those too... just please put that knife away..."  
Wufei does as he is begged to do, then crosses his arms sternly, and states,  
"I don't do cooking. It's for weakling onnas."  
  
**********  
  
Just down the hall, the kitchen stadium is packed with viewers patiently awaiting a new food challenge. Chairman Kaga makes his entrance, and in his usual pompous way proceeds to summon the Iron Chefs, among which, in place of Masaharu Morimoto, stands Heero Yuy, stone-cold expression on his face, as though he were about to commit bloody murder.  
  
Then, just as the challenger is summoned, silence follows. The audience waits with baited breaths, yet the challenger does not seem to want to appear. Again, Chairman Kaga calls out the challenger's name, this time in a somewhat more authoritative tone.  
  
"Fukui-san," Ohta prompts, running in from the backstage area. Except, instead of going ahead and delivering the update himself as he normally would, he approaches the commentator and whispers something in his ear. The expectation rises as the audience witnesses the otherwise unflappable Fukui literally face-fault, then shake his head and mutter,   
"Oh, boy... that's no good..." He then breaks into a jog and goes directly up to Kaga to deliver the dreadful news.  
  
"Kaga-san, it appears that the challenger had second thoughts, and decided not to go up against Iron Chef Yuy after he received a death threat from him..."  
"Damit, Fukui," Kaga growls back, obviously not entirely surprised, "I told you not to use the 'M' word with the kid... He's a Gundam pilot, for crying out loud! Wake up and smell the Zero system!"  
  
Up on his Iron Chef perch, Heero Yuy remains standing impassibly, oblivious to the commotion down below as he conditions his mind for the showdown with the poor bugger who dared challenge him,  
"Mission acknowledged... Must beat Bobby Flay... Omae wo kurosu..."  
  
**********  
  
Meanwhile, in another part of the studios, Quatre is all excited as he prepares to begin shooting for his show. He's even got the British accent down pat...   
  
The director, a woman who, for all intents and purposes, could be Dorothy Catalonia's older sister, gives him an encouraging pat in the back as she leads him into the informal, loft-style kitchen setting where all the ingredients sit, already prepped and ready to use.  
  
Quatre ties on his apron, then, with a nervous smile, announces,  
"I'm ready. I can do this, I can do this, yes I can..."  
The director nods, then hollers out to the camera crew,  
  
"Quatre Winner, the Naked Chef, take 1!"  
Quatre pales, his eyes growing wide as saucers as a panicked expression settles on his angelic little face, then protests,  
"Heeey, wait a second! Nobody mentioned anything about having to take my clothes off..."  
  
*********  
  
The set just beside the one that Quatre ran out of is made to look like the kitchen of a typical British home where a typical British family would live. On the fridge, several kids' drawings are displayed. Toys can be seen lying discarded on the counter, along with the different bowls of neatly-measured ingredients.  
  
The director announces that taping is about to resume.  
"Nigella... ahem, Lucrezia Bites, take 3!"  
  
Mariemaya, in a much-staged performance, runs across the set wielding a Barbie doll, then tugs on Lucrezia Noin's sweater, and pleads,  
"Mommy, mommy, can you make that Princess Barbie cake for my birthday party? Please, pretty please with a cherry on top?"  
"Alright, dear," Noin replies in an equally-staged British accent, then turns to the camera, "Hi, I'm Lucrezia Noin, for 'Lucrezia Bites'. Today, I am going to show you how to self-cater your child's birthday party..."  
  
"Cut! Cut, damit!" the director yells, mid-scene. Noin looks puzzled, since in her opinion she was doing quite dandy.  
"The British accent, sweetie, where did it go? You did half a sentence with it, then you lost it along the way. Let's start from scratch..."  
"Oh, for Pete's sake," Noin protests, "look, can we just ditch this whole British accent business? I'm not British, the audience knows I'm not, so what is the point of me having to fake it? That's just silly, if you ask me..."  
"Yah, well, good thing I didn't ask you, then. Again! Lucrezia Bites, take 4! Lights, camera, action!"  
  
About a couple of minutes into the taping, another interruption comes, this time from Noin herself, as she strongly disagrees with the cues flashed to her by the director's aide.  
  
"Now, hold on a second," she starts, reaching for a paper towel to wipe the eggy mess off her fingers,   
"I'm supposed to crack eggs and get the stuff all over my hands to separate the yolks from the whites... like this Nigella person doesn't own a regular, run of the mill egg separator... gimme a break... THEN reach over to unscrew the lid to the sugar container, with my hands all slimy?! How does that make any sense?"  
  
"Sweetie," the director drones on, by then getting to the point of exasperation, "Nigella Lawson is the kind of woman who is not afraid of getting a little messy in the kitchen. And, as her replacement, neither should you. Now will you please be so kind as to get the eggy slime back on your hands, and open the darn jar?"  
"Nu-hu," Noin retorts, quite determined as she goes straight for the sink instead, "I'm not gonna do that. I'm sorry, but I'm supposed to be teaching these people how to cook, not how to spread salmonella to their family members. It's unsanitary, and it's bad example, so forget it! Now, if you'll excuse me, I've gotta wash my hands. With ANTI-BACTERIAL soap!"  
  
"Listen, Noiny-dear," the director warns, quickly losing all remainders of patience, "don't start going all diva on me, or I'll have you and your buddy Sally Po cast for the 'Two Fat Ladies' instead... Eeeep!"  
  
The director has barely enough time to duck before a professional food processor is flung in his direction. He looks up in shock, only to see Lucrezia Noin reaching for a big, heavy cast-iron pan next.  
"Do not... call me... Noiny-dear," she growls between her clenched teeth, "Understood?!"   
Beside the cowering, wimpering director, Zechs Merquise chuckles discreetly and looks the other way as he comments,  
"Told you ticking her off was a bad idea..."  
  
*********  
  
Meanwhile, among the rolling hills of the beautiful English countryside, a motorcycle with a sidecar approaches at full speed. The camera zooms in to reveal Hilde Schbeiker in the driver's seat, with Relena Peacecraft in the sidecar, holding on for dear life.  
  
"Wheeee," Hilde cheers as they hit a bump, " Hey, Re, I dunno about you, but I like this 'travelling cooking show' deal. I mean, this bike is sweet, dude!!!"  
"Uh... sure, Hil... but could you please slow down just a little bit?" Relena pleads, her hair flapping about in complete disarray from underneath the helmet.  
  
"So... run this by me again," Hilde asks as she gears down, "We're supposed to look for this dude named Angus, who is probably down at the pub getting hammered, to see if he has any lobsters to sell us? Then go cook them up for a convent of nuns?"  
"Yes, that does sound rather strange, doesn't it?" Relena points out, still trying to figure out what exactly she is doing in a sidecar in the middle of the English boonies,  
"I say we forget about the nuns AND the lobsters, and go for a pint ourselves!"  
  
  
  
_Author's note: I don't own Martha Stewart Living. I don't own The Surreal Gourmet. I don't own Emeril Live, nor do I own East Meets West, or Iron Chef. Heck, I'm such a complete loser, I don't even own The Naked Chef (though I'd be more than happy to, since he's quite the hottie... ahem... never mind that). I don't own Nigella Bites, or Two Fat Ladies, or Food TV, for that matter. And, thank you for making me say this, thereby reminding me of my own misery, I do not own Gundam Wing, either. Although I have been such a good girl this year, that Santa might just deliver this time. You never know..._


End file.
